


Competitive Eating

by IluisIndustries



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/M, Light BDSM, PWP, WoL race is ambiguous
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-15
Updated: 2017-01-15
Packaged: 2018-09-17 14:28:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9328955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IluisIndustries/pseuds/IluisIndustries
Summary: While on a mission with the Sylphs, Yda finally manages to finagle some alone time with the Warrior of Light. With any luck, she'll find a way to crack that stoic exterior of his.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hoo boy, here we go. Characters and locations belong to Square Enix.

Yda finally got away from Papalymo AND got the Warrior of Light away from where prying eyes could see him. She practically skipped through the Twelveswood to the spot where she told the man to scout. It was just a ruse, the area she mentioned was actually quite peaceful and - more importantly for what she had planned - secluded. The Warrior did seem a bit skeptical when she told him where to go, but gave a nod that was becoming characteristic of him and jogged off anyways.

She had a brief twinge of guilt at deceiving her friends, especially when their mission required haste. The Sylphs could wait a while longer though. A half hour, at the very least. She’d settle for less with a man like this one, but he’d more than proved his stamina in other arenas. Yes, she was confident he would satisfy.

He sat on a stump in the middle of a clearing surrounded by bramble. She didn’t even try to be stealthy, stepping on a particularly noisy-looking twig to alert him to her arrival. He turned towards her looking nonchalant, obviously aware of the utter lack of danger in this part of the wood.

“Come to join me?” He asked, removing his face mask. He patted the stump beside him for her to sit. She didn’t say a word, but stood before him instead.

“There’s only one seat I’ve any interest in taking here,” she said, trying to keep from giggling at herself. While his scouting mission was a literal walk in the forest, her current goal would be much more difficult: breaking that stoic shell the Warrior always wore.

He smirked as he worked out her little innuendo, then leaned forward, eyebrows popping upwards in a dare. She grabbed him behind the neck and rushed to kiss him. He kept his lips sealed at first but she wasn’t having any of that. She grabbed a fistful of hair and tugged sharply, making him gasp - more in surprise than pain. She stole the opportunity and deepened the kiss, tasting the cinnamon tingle of whatever that Sylphic beverage he had been forced to try earlier was.

She worked his lower lip with her own, then bit down on it. He sighed softly, and she began to grow frustrated that he could remain so composed. She placed her other hand at his throat and gave a test squeeze, then trailed her fingers down under his shirt to press against the wide expanse of his pectorals. Finding and pinching his nipple only made him smile into her kiss.

He raised his hands to caress her neck and feel the muscles of her back. His skin was calloused but his touch was far too gentle. Was he taunting her? Trying to make this sweet? Bastard. His thumb dragged along her cheek and up under the visor she always wore. She smacked the hand away and grabbed him by the shoulders, pushing him back against the stump.

He lifted himself up slightly to rest on his elbows, eyes watching her as she crawled on top of him. She untucked his shirt and lifted it as she leaned forward. He sat up so she could tug it off of him, and when his head was free she twisted the shirt around his wrists and tied them into a loose knot; he could easily slip away, this was merely a message.

He lifted up to kiss her but she placed two fingers on his lips “Uh-uh,” she said, her panting ruining the confidence she was supposedly projecting, “Only one place that mouth belongs.”

He gave a filthy chuckle and his lips parted, tongue sliding out to part her middle and index finger and flick between them. She shoved the digits into his expectant mouth, pressing him back down with her free hand. He raked his teeth over her knuckles as she pulled them out, earning a slap that left a satisfying echo through their private clearing.

She scooted forwards till she straddled his face. How convenient that her shorts clasped on either side - she slipped them off hastily, exposing herself to him. He smiled up at her, jaw slack and tongue lolling out.

She lifted her hips, pelvis just out of reach of him. When he craned his neck towards her, she pushed him back down with the back of her hand on his forehead. He flicked his tongue at the air a few times, but then started laughing. Damn him, they both knew he’d outlast her at this game. She raked her nails through his scalp and, relenting, lowered back down, smothering his wet mouth.

She should’ve expected it to feel as good as it did - she had gone so long without, and he had a body that probably exposed him to plenty of practice from the eager. After a short while she noticed he was almost purring as he lapped at her entrance, face languid like he was performing any ordinary task.

She no longer cared to think up any curse words to damn him for beating her at her own game. Actually she couldn’t any longer think about much of anything at all, besides the rush of warmth that boiled up from between her legs. She could only hear him humming beneath her as if it reverberated through her body, and the echoes of her own voice around the clearing. She no longer cared if she was overheard, let the whole Shroud come and see. Even the embarrassment of coming so easily to his mouth’s ministrations drifted away on the waves of her orgasm.

When she felt truly spent, she sat back unceremoniously on his chest, lungs heaving with exertion. He pecked kisses on her thighs, hands freeing themselves from their loose ties to massage her powerful quadriceps. She looked down and saw his mustache was in total disarray, slick with spit and sweat.

“Your turn?” she asked, hopping off and standing before him again. His face was unreadable as he sat back up so she goaded him, “Hmmm? Wellll?” She trailed her fingers down his torso and hooked one under the cloth of his pants.

He gently grabbed her hands and held them together. “Next time?”

Bullshit. He knew in their line of work that next-times were hard to come by. She could have slapped him again, and meant it this time. But she didn’t, choosing to play along and save face. It was probably for the best, they had more than enough to do without getting distracted like this.

“You’re on!” she said with a soft punch to his chest. She made as if to walk away into the woods but looked down at her missing shorts. Laughing despite her severely wounded pride, she collected it from the stump and suited back up.

He pulled his shirt on and the two departed together, joking about what excuse Papalymo might actually believe for their absence.


End file.
